


Softly, Silently

by d1sclosure



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Mates, Not Canon Compliant, Peter is kicked out of the Pack, Scott McCall (mentioned) - Freeform, Steter - Freeform, Steter Week 2020, Steter Week Day 3, Talia Hale (mentioned) - Freeform, fox-shifter Stiles, full-shift Peter, stiles is kicked out of the pack, the hALES LIVE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:47:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25664623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d1sclosure/pseuds/d1sclosure
Summary: Romeo and Juliet was a goddamn tragedy.  If they wanted a happy ending, they should've gotten the hell out of Verona.Or, Stiles and Peter are in love and Beacon Hills is the place where happiness goes to die.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 15
Kudos: 485
Collections: Steter Week 2020





	Softly, Silently

**Author's Note:**

> For the Steter Week 2020 visual prompt: _winter cabin ___

“ _In the end we have each other and that’s at least one thing worth living for.”_

For years now, the Hale and McCall packs have resided within Beacon Hills in relative harmony, in part because both have equal claim to the territory, but mostly because both packs strictly ignore the other. 

There is animosity, of course, and mistrust, but they manage, drawing lines and allocating spaces. Each Alpha is resolute in their ruling, and neither notice the times outlying pack members vanish. Instead, they enjoy the peace that gradually comes, and congratulates themselves on a land well managed.

But things come to a head when a group of feral alphas tear their way through the town.

Their stay is blood-filled, and quickly ended at the hands of a McCall beta and a Hale. The fox and the wolf exchange smiles, sharp and fleeting before they are found out. The Alpha’s of their respective packs stand on the edge of the clearing, stinking of rage.

Commanded by their alphas, the fox and the wolf return to their packs, but they hold each other’s gaze as long as they can. Truths are written in their eyes, alongside vows they have promised.

Talia Hale, furious that her very own Left Hand could conspire behind her back in such a manner, could become _affectionate_ towards a shifter from a rival pack, considers how he refuses to turn over his new alpha park; considers how, when they’d been found, Peter had been beside the shifter, close enough to touch. She snaps, snarling, and draws blood before she cuts her brother from the pack and exiles him from the territory. 

Family he has grown up beside are all silence and down-turned eyes. He scoffs, and turns his back. He knows, the moment he walks out the front door, that this will be the last time he sees them.

He cannot find it within himself to be anything more than mildly saddened. Bitterness is a far stronger emotion.

Across town, a horrified Scott McCall looks at the boy he had always thought of as _brother_ and sees nothing familiar. He does not know this blood-stained pack member standing before him. His instincts clamor in the back of his mind and he... he condemns him, calls him _killer_ , calls him _murderer_. Yanks away the pack bonds that connect them, orders him to leave.

Stiles does so, feeling nothing but a bone-deep resignation. But, more than that, and far brighter too, he is relieved, and... he should not be, he thinks; shouldn’t be but the pack bonds that once burned bright turned to grey a long time ago, and his heart is bonded to another, now.

Returning home to an empty house – having learned to not expect anything else, because his father has always had a hard time accepting Stiles’s… _peculiarities_ for all that his beloved wife was just as peculiar, too – he starts upstairs.

A grin grows across his face at hearing a heartbeat awaiting him. It is familiar. A rhythm he memorized during quiet, sleepy moments, with his ear pressed to skin as fingertips trailed down his spine.

He opens his door to blue eyes and a wolf that smiles slowly, so very slowly, before canting his head to the side in that way of his that Stiles _adores_ …

A smirk, hint of fang, and then blue becomes red red _red_.

Stiles feels his heart begin to race, eyes flashing a pale lilac in return.

The gold that wraps around his heart pulses bright.

“The red’s nice,” Stiles says, stepping closer, closer until there are claw tipped hands on his hips and he cannot tell the difference between his heart and Peter’s. “But blue’s always gonna be your color.”

Peter only laughs, takes Stiles’s hand in his, and presses a kiss to the pulse fluttering across his wrist. Stiles’s breath catches. He rolls his eyes at Peter’s smug grin and goes to change out of his sullied clothes, stuffing them into a black garbage bag, to be disposed of later.

Stiles has his bags packed in an hour. He leaves behind a lot, takes only what’s important. Peter is a steady presence at his side as he picks through his clothes and books and pries open the loose floorboards in the back of his closet to get the albums and photographs he hid away when his mother died.They leave, trekking through the small bit of forest behind his house to where Peter parked his car. His bags go in the trunk beside Peter’s, and he takes the passenger seat, belting up as Peter climbs in behind the wheel.

They leave, and head north. They’ll cross borders and spend nights in strange small-town motels until they hit Alaska, where a cabin that Peter quietly bought months ago, when they first talked of leaving, awaits. They’ll settled down and live _freely_ , without judgment, and Stiles thinks of how he’s left behind no letters – no notes, no words. Wonders if that makes him a bad son. Wonders if there would’ve been anybody that cared to read them, if he had.

It doesn’t matter, he decides, and he reaches for Peter’s hand where it rests on the gearshift; laces their finger’s together with a hum, tilting his head at the weight of Peter’s gaze.

He’s got everything he needs. Nothing else matters.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr, alongside it's accompanying moodboard.  
> If you're interested, check me out at wildriot.tumblr.com.


End file.
